


A Bit of Christmas Magic

by Artezeous



Category: Hazbin Hotel (Web Series)
Genre: Christmas, Christmas Presents, Demons, F/M, Fluff, Gender-neutral Reader, Magic, No pronouns mentioned for reader, Radio Demon - Freeform, Snow, Tooth Rotting Fluff, alastor’s a nice guy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-11
Updated: 2019-12-11
Packaged: 2021-02-26 04:34:41
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,094
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21757633
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Artezeous/pseuds/Artezeous
Summary: The holidays should make you fill with glee, but after over two decades in Hell, they only make you long for the mortal world. Noticing your sorrow, Alastor attempts to cheer you up with a bit of magic and lots of smiles.
Relationships: Alastor (Hazbin Hotel)/Reader
Comments: 7
Kudos: 190





	A Bit of Christmas Magic

**Author's Note:**

> Wow, I have been off Ao3 for a WHILE. Here’s something short and sweet for a friend of mine. A recent snow day inspired this. Merry Christmas, Bowie :)

Ever since Hell’s calendar reached the month of December, your heart began to yearn for the familiarity of the mortal world and its holidays. Despite residing in Hell for nearly twenty-five years, that troublesome pit in your stomach always forms at the thought of the world above, especially during the holiday season. Twenty-five years does not simply mark your death. It marks twenty-five birthdays of your best friend that you can never attend. It marks twenty-five years of missing summer leaves turning golden and red. It marks twenty-five years without Christmas or a family to celebrate it. 

It marks twenty-five years of eternal loneliness. 

Your sweeping ceases as you gaze out one of the many windows of the hotel. Even the distant sounds of chaos cannot lift your spirits. Perhaps your mother is baking Christmas cookies at this very moment. Maybe your father is finishing his last shift before his long weekend. The thoughts should comfort you. After all, that would mean your parents are happy again. Instead, they make you frown and crave traditions you once mocked.

“Why the long face, my dear?” 

You jolt with a gasp, spinning on your heels. Your broom slips from your fingers, Alastor swiftly catching it. His signature smile remains as he holds it out to you, amused. “You dropped this.”

“You scared me,” you reply, taking the broom back with a sheepish smile. As quick as it appeared, it vanishes, and you turn to continue the chores you neglected. However, Alastor remains, stepping in front of you.

“You didn’t answer my question,” he states, his head tilting to the side. “Why don’t you smile for me, my dear? You’re never fully dressed without one.” Lightly grasping your face with one hand, he squeezes your cheeks together. On a normal day, you would burst into a fit of musical giggles. Much to Alastor’s disappointment, his trick fails. 

You pull away. “I should really back to sweeping.”

“You can’t get back to sweeping—not when this mystery hasn’t been solved yet!” 

“Al, c’mon,” you try, “I’m okay.” But the words fall flat, and Alastor is unconvinced. 

He says your name, a hand against your shoulder as his red eyes stare through your soul. You shrink, averting his burning gaze. 

“I just...miss the holidays. That’s all. Now can I get back to work, please?”

His brows furrow as he absorbs your words, but he releases you. You scurry away, leaving Alastor glued to his spot as a plan begins to form. 

Time skip thingy

For two days, Alastor does not step foot in the hotel. Though you are accustomed to his random disappearances—often assuming it was for business—the hotel always becomes quieter—duller, despite Angel Dust’s mischief. Still, during a time such as this, Alastor’s disappearance becomes harder to ignore. 

Just as your alarm blares in your ear, Charlie calls your name from outside your room’s door with childish excitement. “Come to the lobby! You have to see this!” 

You throw yourself into a bathrobe, hastily tying it as you answer your door. Charlie is already dressed for the day, beaming. She takes your wrist, dragging you down a long corridor and down the spiraling stairs. 

“Charlie,” a laugh bubbles in your throat, “slow down! What’s wrong?”

“Nothing’s wrong!” Charlie chirps over her shoulder. “You’ll love it! Just wait until you see what Alastor did!”

“Al’s here?” Your heart flutters at the possibility. Al’s back. Al’s back! Your pace matches Charlie’s as you reach the end of the stairwell, even running past her to enter the lobby. Suddenly, you slide to a halt, tears welling in your eyes.

At the center of the lobby stands a tall Christmas tree reaching the ceiling, decorated in paper snowflakes, popcorn strings, and glass ornaments that sparkle in the light. Christmas music from the twenties drifts through the lobby. Nifty rushes through the room, carefully adjusting the many wreaths and decorations throughout the room as Husk grumbles about it all. Like you, Vaggie and Angel Dust show signs of just waking up, clad in their pajamas and hair unbrushed. They exchange looks of confusion, and Charlie continues to smile at them as you soak up every detail of the Christmas wonderland. At the center of it all stands Alastor, his chest out with pride as he holds a small box wrapped in red paper with gold ribbon. 

“Al!” you approach him, smiling. “What is all of this?”

“It’s for you, my dear,” he explains. “I couldn’t have you moping about, could I?”

“Is that for me?” you point to the box in his hand. 

He chuckles. “Of course! Who else?”

Taking the box, your smile grows as you carefully examine the wrapping paper. Whatever the box holds is much heavier than you anticipated, and it only causes your curiosity to grow. 

“Open it,” Alastor presses. 

Slowly, you take the ribbon and pull it, watching it unwind with a flutter. You unwrap the mystery gift and open its white box. Eyes widening with wonder, you take the object in your hand. 

“A snow globe,” you murmur. You spy a familiar building inside. 

“Of the hotel,” he finishes. Resting his hand on top of the snow globe, Alastor leans forward. “Shake it, my dear.” 

You obey, the fake snow blowing around the miniature hotel. A gust of wind blows in your face. 

You blink.

Your legs sink into tall piles of snow as you stand outside the hotel, Alastor beside you. Outstretching your palm, you catch small flurries. “It’s...snowing?”

“Do you like it?”

“I love it!” You exclaim, spinning in the snow. You fall onto your back, the snow cushioning your fall. The giggles Alastor craved pour from you uncontrollably. “Al, this is perfect? You made this?”

He stands above you, watching as you form a large snow angel. He dismisses you with a wave, though your joy only makes his pride swell more. “Oh, it was simple, my dear! Just a little magic and favors.” Alastor outstretches his hand, tugging you towards him. “And whenever you find yourself frowning, all you have to do is come here. Those pesky troubles of yours will disappear in an instant.” 

After all the trouble Alastor went through for you, you could hug him. As though he is reading your mind, his arms open, anticipating your embrace. Crashing into him, you hug him with all your strength, burying your face into his chest as you balance on your tiptoes. “Merry Christmas, Al.”

He returns your hug, resting his chin atop your head. “Merry Christmas.” 

  
  
  
  
  
  



End file.
